


Inside

by Turn_of_the_Sonic_Screw



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Crack, Dom!Clara, Episode AU: s09e12-13 Hell Bent/Heaven Sent, F/M, Pegging, Smut, Top Clara Oswald
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-29
Updated: 2018-01-29
Packaged: 2019-03-10 21:54:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13510542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Turn_of_the_Sonic_Screw/pseuds/Turn_of_the_Sonic_Screw
Summary: Set during a cracky alternate version of Heaven Sent....I'm sorry, what did you think "I am in Twelve" meant?





	Inside

**Author's Note:**

> A huge thank you to imaginary_golux and infinite_regress for the beta read!
> 
> Also, apparently there wasn't a tag for "Top Clara Oswald" before. I'm going to assume that this is because this is her default setting.

With a final punch, the azbantium barrier shattered. The Doctor screamed with pain and delight as he slipped through the barrier. He was lucky--he only needed one blow to do it, and the Veil was still several minutes behind him. Ahead of him, a simple blue door. He raced ahead and slammed the door shut behind him, locking it. 

What greeted him was not the exit for his confession dial. Nor was it the TARDIS. Instead, it was a comfortably appointed room (definitely not a bedroom, though there was a bed among the furniture). A comfortably appointed room with one other occupant. His eyes continued to widen as he took in her corset, her thigh-high boots, her (ulp!) strap-on dildo.

“I’m sorry,” Clara asked, not batting a single perfect eyelash. “What did you think ‘I am in Twelve’ meant?”

“I…” His mouth ran dry. “I thought this would be the exit.”

“Oh, well, yes.” She hooked a thumb over her shoulder before unscrewing a little tube of lube. “It’s back there. But tell me you aren’t more concerned about entrances rather than exits at the moment.” He hesitated. “Don’t worry, it can’t get us in here.” She smeared lube all over the toy, and he salivated. “That’s what I thought. Clothes off. Keep the coat; I like the velvet on you.”

Frantically, he complied, leaving a tangled heap of garments behind him. He was more than ready not to have to think for a while. He turned approximately the same color as his coat as Clara drank in the sight of him and led him onto the bed where he knelt at the foot, facing away from the head. “You look good,” she purred, crouched behind him, ready to pounce. Cold, latex-covered fingers tapped between his legs, and he parted them as he had done so many times before as she made him ready for her, slowly coaxing and opening him. He shuddered, glad for the warmth of the coat. 

She discarded her glove with a snap and circled around to perch on the foot-board like a bird of prey, leaving her a few inches taller than him. She ran her palms over his chest; her hands were warm, and found where he was sensitive: just by his armpits, his nipples, and the hollow of his throat. He moaned and she grinned. “You’re so good for me,” she whispered, her fingers ringing the base of his cock. Am I a good man, indeed, he thought as she bent to kiss him hungrily. 

“Hands here, and here,” she pointed, before cuffing him to the tall posts at the foot of the bed. No more running, not right now. “Comfortable?” He nodded. “Still ‘Dalek?’” He nodded again; whatever this Clara was, she knew their safeword.

She hopped down to the floor and strutted around behind him, taking a longer loop than necessary, letting his eyes follow the swinging of the tip of her cock. Now it brushed past the tails of his coat, past his buttocks, and into him. “I’ve missed this,” he admitted to what was probably a figment of his imagination that was even now wrapping him in an embrace. The Veil had gotten him into the habit of speaking the truth. “I’ve missed you.”

“I can tell,” she chuckled, one hand finding him hard and slowly, maddeningly stroking from almost where she entered him to his tip, and back again. “Going to come for me, Doctor?” she asked, moving inside him in time with her hand, whose movements were imperceptibly speeding up. He nodded, his eloquence reduced to grunts and nods by her controlling touch. “Good. I want you to come. You’ve earned it.” He whimpered as she thrust inside of him. “Come for me, Doctor,” she repeated, and he obeyed with a throb and a moan, sending globs of seed all over the floor. 

“Fuck, that was gorgeous,” Clara moaned appreciatively. “Let me get you out of those cuffs and get you ready for round two.” She pulled out of him with a pop and removed the restraints, letting him sag blissfully back onto the bed, his legs crumpled. She cleaned the remains of his pleasure off of his cock and where it had fallen on his thighs; she hated how it felt when it got sticky, or crusty. “After all,” she concluded, “I think it’s about time Twelve was in me.”


End file.
